


His Angel - Crowley x Aziraphale - Good Omens ONE SHOT

by moriartysqueen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 19:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartysqueen/pseuds/moriartysqueen
Summary: Crowley comes across Aziraphale's burning bookshop and has to deal with the thoughts of losing his best friend. Or whatever he was...





	His Angel - Crowley x Aziraphale - Good Omens ONE SHOT

**-Crowley POV-**

With a swift kick, I opened the door to your bookstore like I had so many times before.

“For Satan’s sake Angel, can’t you pick up your phone? I found that Nutter’s prophecy. So we can-“ I announced, unbothered by any potential customers in the shop. Not that there are any, ever, anyway.

But this time it was different – I was struck by a wave of heat as I entered the store. Fire had spread all around the room, encompassing every map, every token, every book.

The fire was already quite warm to me, so I could imagine how it would feel to someone who wasn’t used to the warmth of hell. I was used to it of course, but earthly humans and items can’t withstand enormous heat, much less fire, as I had learned over the years.

“Angel?” I asked into the space. Fire flaring and crackling around me, I couldn’t quite place which sounds were produced by a human’s hand and which weren’t.

I looked around to try and find out the cause for the fire. Surely you didn’t purposefully set your own property on fire; according to hyou the books were the only thing that brought you joy these days. Well, apart from food and alcohol of course.

A big whiff of fire whipped my way, striking me across the face. It felt merely like a scratch; any human would have suffered severe burns. Or – an angel.

I began to worry, as I journeyed further into the shop, constantly calling your name.  I knew that earthly fire couldn’t kill you, but it could seriously injure you. To my knowledge, even more than it could with humans. Angels have a ridiculously low tolerance for heat, fire or flame.

To kill an angel, he would have to burn in hellfire of course. But the human bodies we were given for planet earth were a lot easier to destruct.

“Azirophale? Please, are you here???” I screamed, running up the spiral staircase that was placed in the middle of the store.

I reached upstairs, the heat of the metal from the bannister still underneath my palms. The fire had already spread over both floors, slowly destroying every book that had been so carefully placed in the shelves.

It made me think about the countless times I had to help you set up the store, screwing together flatback furniture or picking out the right colors for the walls. Your passion for books had never made sense to me; still it was sad to see it all literally go up in flames.

Evidently, you weren’t in this store and as I was just about to leave, I remembered how you always used to tell me about important prophecy books you kept hidden in the office.

I didn’t want to give it much thought, but maybe retrieving the books and saving them from the fire could be a good way to apologize.

Only a couple days ago we had gotten into a massive fight, because he still can’t see that we work well with each other. He doesn’t recognize that there is something other between us than just heaven and hell, good and evil, black and white.

Armageddon was upon us, all I was proposing to him was that we spend our last days before the doom, before we had to fight each, together on Alpha Centauri. Just the two of us, like old times sake.

It pains me sometimes, knowing that I clearly don’t mean as much to you as you mean to me. That is because you still have the century-old bias in your head that a demon and angel could never be close to each other. Not that either of our departments would care; they haven’t cared for the past 6000 years.

But you seemed to cling onto your beliefs and refuse to change like I do, which has gotten us into more and more fights over the last centuries. Eventually, culminating in the fight we had last week, where you told me that you didn’t ever want to see me again.

Maybe retrieving your cherished books could be a way to get back into your good graces.

I walked up to your office and, surprisingly, the door wasn’t locked. When I entered, ready to look for the oh-so-important books, I was hit with a striking white light.

Even though I was wearing sunglasses, I still had to shield my eyes from the piercing light. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness and I realized what was causing it, panic immediately spread through me.

A heavenly hexagon.

Lines forming a hexagon, surrounded by old heavenly runes I still could kind of recognize, were graven into the wooden floor. White candles, only two of them still burning, were placed at the edges of the shape.

I was overcome by feelings of panic, confusion and worry.

Panic, because I knew what this hexagon could potentially do to me if I got too close. It would have the same effect on me as chugging a pint of holy water would. I definitely needed to mind my step.

Confusion, because I was wondering what this hexagon did here in the first place. The only reasons an angel could have to draw one, was if they wanted to talk to the higher-ups. Or… if they wanted to resign from their human form.

I clasped a hand over my mouth in worry. You didn’t…?

“No, No No No No No…” I mumbled to myself.

I stumbled blindly back out into the store. Did you truly resign from your human form because you didn’t want to be around me anymore? Because you felt like I was pressuring you into something you didn’t want to do? Or because earth was too boring for you or the people around you not angel-enough?

I tripped over a pile of books lying on the floor, landing harsh on my knees.

There I sat, in the middle of your bookstore, screaming like a toddler.

I kept screaming your name, again and again, as if you would miraculously appear and just tell me it was all a misunderstanding.

You bastard.

How could you leave without saying goodbye? Sure, I would have talked you out of your plans, but not one word? Nothing?

After all we have been through? After all the time we spent together over the past 6000 years?

“Aziraphale… angel…” I whispered, a tear dripping from my eye.

I took off my sunglasses and dabbed my finger over the wet spots under my eye. I never thought I could cry, as I never had before.

Frankly, I had also never felt as sad and as betrayed before.

Humans say that right before you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. Does the same sensation come to pass when you just lost a companion?

I couldn’t help but remember all the good and fun times we had shared over the years.

 

 

I remembered how I would always “accidentally” bump into you, just to have an excuse to speak with you. Like that time I “bumped into you” at one of Shakespeare’s plays.

Of course I knew about your appreciation for literature, music and other forms of art. And during our last meeting, you had briefly mentioned how promising you thought William Shakepeare was.

So I basically camped out at his theater, attending every performance and public rehearsal, no matter how terrible, just for a chance to eventually see you again.

And then one day, during a play called ‘Hamlet’ or something like that, I spotted your light figure standing amongst the spectators. I approached you, acting as though it was _completely_ coincidental that we would meet here. Thankfully you didn’t comment on it; you knew very well I wasn’t into theater as much, especially not these depressing plays.

Even you admitted, that the play just wasn’t as good. So we spent our time bickering, like we usually do. I tried to tempt you once more into making a pact with me. I suggested, how much more efficient both of our works would be if we split our workloads evenly. What first sounded like a great business proposal, was really just a secret plan for me to be spending more time with you.

At that point we had already been walking the earth for over 5000 years and I had yet to come across another being that didn’t irritate the hell out of me. Humans are nothing to get attached to anyway, with their lifespan being so short and all. But humans were generally just daft, boring and frankly annoying.

Whereas you had always been a good match for me. You challenged me, mentally and physically, knew my habits and my quirks and also knew when to approach me and when not. You teased me, mocked me, but all always in good fun. Frankly speaking, you were good company. And I had decided a long while ago, that I wasn’t going to miss this ever again.

 

 

 

I also remembered when we once tricked Cleopatra. We tricked her and her builders, which resulted in a misconstruction of the pyramids. They had to then be completely rebuilt again, costing her A LOT of money, time and effort.

I can’t remember any other time my stomach had hurt this much from laughter.

It was one of the only times I could seduce you to ‘evil’ doings. And you did originally have your doubts about our ruse, but I could convince you after all.

And I was happy I could – seeing you laugh had always been my favorite image.

We sat behind a wall, with some stolen bread, wine and grapes, giggling at our joke. We hid from the guards, we hid from Cleopatra and her scrutiny, and just enjoyed each other’s company.

We were both trying (and failing) to catch our breaths after our laughing fit, and I remembered you saying that this was the most fun you ever had.

In that moment I vowed to myself to always try and make you happy. I aimed to see that smile whenever I could.

 

 

 

 

Also, only a couple decades ago, I could persuade you to accompany me to a Queen concert. You were a lot more invested in the music from the 17th, 18th and 19th century, but for me, modern music was the peak of entertainment value, especially this band.

We had successfully filled out all our deeds, so we were free on the night of the concert. You weren’t too keen on concerts, the crowds, the heat, the people. But you still owed me a favor after you dragged me along to a staged reading, during which I fell asleep almost immediately.

Our budget allowed us to watch the concert from the VIP stands. We were surrounded by so called “very important people”, with fancy clothing and bodyguards, and yet, neither of us knew who any of them were.

Queen is, to this day, my favorite band, so evidently, I enjoyed myself thusly during their performance. Regardless of what the snobbish people around me were thinking, I danced and sung along to all of their songs. During “Somebody to love” I snapped my fingers to create a little flame to try to imitate all the humans holding up matches and lighters. You immediately reprimanded me.

You stood next to me, with your usual confused expression, completely out of place. But I noticed during the course of the evening, you eventually started to bop along to the beat of the music a little, your eyes closed, your head nodding to the rhythm. Later you asked me the name of particular songs, and even after you claimed that it was just for knowledge sake, not because you enjoyed it or anything, I just smiled knowingly.

 

 

But I also remembered the difficult times. The ones when we argued. The ones when I seriously wondered if a friendship, or _more_ , between us could actually work. The ones when I was so pissed at you that I couldn’t think straight and did some stupid things, like start World War II or spread the plague. Or when you made some miracles happen, just to annoy me. Like giving America the first black president or making the death penalty illegal or stopping witch hunts.

I remembered last week. When you told me, in tears, how _we_ would never work. How my plan, the scenario I had planned for _us_ would never work. Your beautiful face in pain, trying to stay strong. And I just walked away.

 

 

 

“I can’t lose this.” I heard myself say against the noise in the bookstore. “I can’t lose _you_. My angel.”

I sat in the middle of your store, my back against a bookcase in flames, my head in my hands.

Tears dripped down onto the floor between my legs, hitting the surface and immediately evaporating.

I was angry.

Angry with you for leaving without a word.

Angry that all the experiences we shared were now nothing but memories.

Angry that our time was cut so short.

Angry knowing that you might still be alive, but we would never see each other again.

I was angry at myself for never telling you how I felt.

And I was angry that you _still_ don’t know.

“To hell with all this!” I screamed, getting up from where I was sitting and I began to destroy everything around me that could still be destroyed.

“You can’t just go!” I yelled, kicking into a glass cupboard.

“You can’t just leave me alone!” I broke a chair in two.

My screaming mixed with sobs; like a stupid child I couldn’t bring myself to stop crying. I threw chairs, books, drawers, anything breakable. I wanted to make this anger and pain all go away.

“I need you Azirophale. But you just fucking left!” I ripped posters from the wall.

“How could you do this to me?” I punched into a mirror.

 

After what felt like hours, I collapsed into a corner. Tired of the endless throwing, and screaming and punching.

“I should have told you.” I mumbled to myself. “I should have fucking told you.”

I screamed that last sentences dozens of times. It didn’t help. No matter how hard I tried or how loud I screamed, it didn’t get any better.

 

“What did you want to tell me?” I suddenly heard a familiar voice next to me.

I looked up at a white light, a single tear dropping on cue. For a second I thought this was the Archangel, bringing me to him because I had somehow died. But it wasn’t.

It was _you_.

“Az…?” I stuttered, looking up at your form.

You were hovering a few inches above the ground, your skin even paler than usual. I then noticed that you were almost completely transparent; ghostly.

Your features, your clothing, your voice was still the same as usual, but you swayed in the air like an illusion.

“Did you… do this?” You said, gesturing around the shop which by this point, was merely just ashes.

“No it- it was on fire when I came here.” I sniffled, standing up from the ground and trying to straighten up. Of course you had noticed me crying, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to make myself seem any weaker.

Standing opposite you, you for once were as tall as me. Well, hovering a few inches above ground.

“Ugh that will be some paperwork…” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in distaste.

“Azirophale, what happened to you?” I asked, trying hard to sound casual. “I saw the hexagon in the backroom and thought-“

“Oh yeah, that. I was talking to the higher-ups, but then this idiot of Shadwell came into the store and pushed me into the hexagon. And well-“You waved your hands up and down your body.  “He thought I am a witch and this would kill me.”

“Huh.” I answered. “Seems legit.”

You just presented me with a pressed smile.

“What now?” I asked. “Is your humanly body gone for good?”

“Oh pff no. Either the committee grands me a new body or…” you suggestively wiggled your brows. “Or a miracle happens.”

I shook my head in disbelief and chuckled.

“You owe me for this!” I said, rubbing my hands together to create miracle-power. I then cast my open hands over your body, feeling the magic leave my skin and transfer to yours.

Your light and shiny figure transformed into something more solid; your usual body manifesting before me. You dropped to the floor, again a couple of inches shorter than me.

“Thanks Crowley I- AHHH AHHH HOT HOT!” You suddenly exclaimed.

Like a bunny, you jumped around on the floor that was mere ashes at that point. Through it all, I had completely forgotten that we were standing in the middle of a burning house and that you were a lot more receptive to heat than I was.

“Right.” I noticed, snapping my fingers and teleporting us in front of the store.

You sighed in relief and straightened your jacket. “Ahh, much better. Thank you Crowley I… I owe you a favor now.”

I just smiled at you, still in disbelief.

Your expression then shifted from relief to uneasiness. I remembered that this was the first time we spoke after our fight last week. Honest to Satan, I had not expected to see you again so soon. Especially not after these circumstances.

“So uh… did you hear what I was saying in there?” I mumbled to myself. I didn’t dare look into your eyes, so I just kicked a little pebble on the sidewalk.

“No, only that ‘you should have told me’.”

I briefly nodded, trying to conceal my relief.

“What did you mean by that anyway?” you asked.

Oops. I swallowed hard and tried to come up with a good lie.

What was I meant to tell you? That you are the only reason I hadn’t yet taken a chug of holy water? That you were the only thing I looked forward to in a day? That you were the only person that could keep me on my toes? The only person I wanted to spend time with? That the thought of you getting harmed was the worst thing I could imagine? That I would literally move heaven, earth and hell for you?

That what I was feeling for you was more than friendship?

I looked into your blue eyes, who looked at me with a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

I then just followed the urge that had itched in my skin since I had first met you. I grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug.

Clearly you couldn’t tell what was happening, as your arms just hung stiff at your sides. But I wrapped my arms around you and squeezed you tightly against me.

You were warm. You smelled like you usually did. Your sideburns tickled my face. You felt so good.

I closed my eyes and leaned into you even more. I never wanted to let go of you ever again.

“I’m glad you’re not dead, angel.” I managed to mumble into your shoulder.

“Ah, well, good. I’m … glad.” You said, clearly not knowing what to do.

As much as I didn’t want to, I let go of you. My hand however still rested on your shoulder.

“Listen Angel, I said a couple of things the other day… that I shouldn’t have.” I started.

“As have I…” you admitted.

There was so much to say. So many things to apologize for, so many things to admit to. But neither of us could bring themselves to say it.

“So…” you tried awkwardly. “I know a new sushi place not far from here… want to try it out?”

I just looked at you and smiled. “Sure.” I hated sushi.

 

Then we were walking along the pavement. We enjoyed each other’s silence like we did so many times before. Armageddon, the prophecies, The Greater Plan, the Antichrist, everything was secondary in this moment. It all could wait.

I was mad at myself that I still didn’t have the balls to tell you what I meant to say. I owed this to you. I owed you the truth.

And because I had been such a coward before, I had almost risked everything. 6000 years of courage build-up.

But what is the meaning of these humanely declarations of love and affection? Kisses, hugs, Sex, verbal affirmations. For us as immortal beings, did these things actually matter?

‘Yes!’ I figured. They mattered. They mattered to me and I wanted you to know. I NEEDED you to know.

But as our hands suddenly brushed against each other, and I caught your eyes and your smile, I decided that all this could wait a little longer.

Because something I didn’t know back then – you wanted to tell me too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my darlings!
> 
> I have recently been OBSESSED with Good Omens, so here, have this little one shot. Nothing special, just a little fluff and angst, but maybe you like it. 
> 
> The characters belong to the creator and this story was inspired by the scene in the burning bookshop, but of course with an alternative ending.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it! If you did, I would appreciate Share, Hearts and Comments.  
> Lots of love, Lena xoxo


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